There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs.
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